


Don't Need Heaven

by cowboykylux



Series: Blue Moon 'Verse [9]
Category: Burn This - Wilson
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love, Multiple Orgasms, Riding, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: A short musing about how Pale loves you, how you make him feel, all while makin' him feel real good.
Relationships: Pale (Burn This)/Reader, Pale (Burn This)/You
Series: Blue Moon 'Verse [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1491260
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Don't Need Heaven

He ain’t too sure, if heaven exists.

Pale ain’t never been a real religious man, not really. Had too much bullshit about that from his wife and his wife’s family, and look where that landed him.

Nah, he don’t give a shit about life after death, he only knows that he’s livin’ – he’s really livin’ when he’s with you. He don’t mean to get sappy or nothin’ like that, he don’t do that lovey-dovey shit. But fuck if he can’t recognize how good you make him feel.

Not just his cock, neither but like, his heart. Somethin’ in his chest aches when you smile at him, eager to see him. Somethin’ in his chest flutters when you laugh at his shitty jokes or mannerisms, the way you only scold him playfully when he does somethin’ fucked. Somethin’ about the way your eyes sparkle in the light for him, when he’s over here in your shithole of an apartment, when you’re over at his.

You’re in his lap, bouncin’ on his cock real pretty. He almost wanted to get high, but his coke’s all the way across the street at his place and he’d scream if he didn’t get your pussy right then, so he puts snortin’ up off till later. You’re ridin’ him as he’s lounging back in your bed, the bed that’s way too fuckin’ small for the two of yous but somehow manages to fit either way.

He’s got an arm tucked up under head like a pillow so he can smoke, smoke his cigarette because there’s somethin’ about you that sets him on edge. He don’t know if it’s a good way or a bad way yet – it’s a _you_ way. His other arm is curled around your thigh, holdin’ you steady as you bounce bounce bounce, your perfect tits covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

You’re a champ, you’ve been fuckin’ yourself on his cock for what must be an hour, and it shows. Your face is all pinched up and you keep comin’ every time he swirls his big calloused thumb over your clit, but you don’t let up, not yet. You’ve got tear-tracks cuttin’ through the soft skin of your cheeks from the sensitivity of it all, but you don’t let up.

He smokes his cigarette, blows it up and away, makes the room hazy with it. You’re a dream, he tells you, a slutty perfect dream, a wet dream come true. You just bite your lip and moan, nipples hard when he reaches up to pinch at one, when he pulls you forward some more so he can latch his lips around one and suck real hard, makin’ you come again for the he-don’t-know-how-many’th time.

And every time, every time you come on his cock when you roll your hips in little circles that make his blood boil thinkin’ of you doin’ that for anyone else, you give him the brightest widest most lovin’ fuckin’ grin.

And he don’t give a shit about heaven, he don’t need it. 

Not when he’s got you right here. 


End file.
